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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035160">Sleepless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/neitherbluenorgreen/pseuds/neitherbluenorgreen'>neitherbluenorgreen</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Avengers Compound, Comfort, Fluff, Multi, No mention of ethnicity, No mention of gender, Pietro is alive, What the hell is Avengers:Endgame?, reader can be female or male, sleep deprevation, the avengers are one big happy family</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:49:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,040</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25035160</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/neitherbluenorgreen/pseuds/neitherbluenorgreen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After returning from a mission with Steve and Bucky, you just can't fall asleep.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Reader, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/you</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>84</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sleepless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Quinjet’s engines had almost lulled you to sleep, but you were glad when Bucky hollered from the cockpit that you were about to make the landing. Looking out the window you saw the Avenger’s Compound finally coming into view and you gathered the few things you had brought back from the mission.<br/>
“I just hope that was the last of that kind of mission,” you mused, more to yourself than addressing anybody else. Steve still agreed and put a hand on your shoulder.<br/>
“So do I. I missed days longer than three hours and I finally don’t feel cold anymore.”<br/>
You snorted. If Steve had been cold, what were you supposed to say? Without that super-soldier-serum enhanced metabolism you had been feeling frozen for two months straight. Of course, you knew that close to the polar circle days would be short this time of the year, but the weather had been exceptionally bad, the temperatures dropping to a record low.<br/>
After Bucky had parked the jet you picked up your bag and headed to the main building. Quickly checking in, then a hot shower and a few days of restful sleep in your own bed, everything else could wait. Steve had already promised to debrief whoever needed to know and had told you that you had done a great job.</p><p>His compliment still made your cheeks grow warm. It had been the third mission you had done with Bucky and Steve in the last six months and you had grown used to working with them. At first you felt like an intruder, but over time you had joined their rhythm. There was little need for words and a glance told you more than enough. While they did most reconnaissance, fighting, and such, you were an expert for securing and documenting certain surprises Hydra had left behind. After the guys cleared the area, the three of you would carefully close in on the target, checking for traps and surveillance. What looked at first like an innocent weather station was in fact designed to monitor more than just the weather and could produce a variety of nasty effects, such as tectonic disruptions, a slow release of toxins into the ground and one seemed to have had an effect on wildlife, making it more aggressive and who knew what else?<br/>
From some of them you just extracted data and installed your own surveillance, others you had to dismantle. A few of them had been tightly guarded – what was left of Hydra knew that you were looking for their weather stations – but you were certain you had managed to make some of them seem undisturbed. Hopefully those would lead you back to where Hydra was hiding or at least give you clues for their further plans. You already had dumped the data and made back-ups during the flight and Tony could have his team crawl through the data. </p><p>It was late and the Compound lay fairly silent. Glad not to have to talk to anybody you let yourself into your quarters and dropped your things by the door. The shower was as perfect as you had dreamed, and you relished the feeling of your soft pajamas on your skin. Housekeeping had made up your bed (a perk you had negotiated for when you came back from missions – you didn’t need somebody to clean up after you usually). Your space was just as you had left it, with no musty smell from being uninhabited for so long and no dust or dead plants. With a happy sigh you fell onto the bed, enjoying the firmness of the mattress, the smell of your favorite detergent and the feeling of being home.<br/>
When you found yourself an hour later, still staring at the dark ceiling, you were puzzled. The room had the perfect temperature, not like the tents or caves you had spent your nights during the mission, which had all been far too cold. The air smelled like home, no strange chemicals or, as in that one nightmare hollow, like dead bear the stink growing the longer the campfire burned. There were no strange sounds, no risk – well only an extremely slim risk – of being woken up in the middle of the night to flee from or fight against Hydra goons. The shadows painted across the walls and ceiling were familiar. You were exhausted, drained, but sleep didn’t come. There had been a few moments where you had almost drifted off, but something had jolted you awake every time before sleep could really claim you. </p><p>After a few hours of lying awake and spells of fitful sleep, you got up. Outside dawn was breaking and even though your limps felt jittery like jelly and at the same time heavy as lead, lying in your bed wasn’t a good idea. You cleaned up your clothes from the night before, unpacked your back and made a grocery list. Checking your messages, you saw that Tony had made a preliminary analysis and had decided it would be soon enough if you met with him two days hence. You confirmed the appointment and added that you were glad he didn’t need you immediately. It had taken two tries to understand his message though it had been in plain English. His prompt reply consisted of a gif of Mickey Mouse falling over laughing and “you did good, get rest!”<br/>
Another, rather sweet, message from Bucky asked you how you were. Your reply of “Good, but so tired!” didn’t change its ‘unread’ status while you were checked the weather. For a moment you thought about starting to read up on the news, but that seemed like something that would take more energy than you had left.<br/>
Eying your coffeemaker you decided against caffeine, it would only wind you up. Maybe a walk would do you good.  Though you were mentally and physically exhausted, some fresh air couldn’t hurt. </p><p>Dressed more warmly than strictly necessary, you headed for the park that connected the Compound with the newly build academy. The day was sunny and the sky blue, and though it wasn’t yet spring, there was green grass and no snow or ice. With the sun warming you, you felt the last chills leave your body. Breathing in deeply you strolled around the pond, watching some waterfowl gliding over the still surface.<br/>
When you noticed yourself eying a park-bench, pondering how it might make a nice place to just close your eyes for a bit, you knew you had to get back to bed.<br/>
But when you were back in your rooms, everything was too silent. The bed, though comfy and welcoming lacked something. Shaking your head, you wondered if you had been exposed to some kind of psychoactive gas. Or maybe a kind of artificial virus that kept you from sleeping? It sounded crazy, but who knew?<br/>
On your way to the labs, you met a few people who welcomed you back. Wanda looked at you with concern in her eyes.<br/>
“You can rest for a few days after such a mission, you know?” she said, her tone gentle. You smiled and nodded.<br/>
“I really want to, but I can’t seem to fall asleep. Maybe the jetlag?” you offered, but she didn’t look convinced. After assuring her you were headed towards the medical facilities anyhow, she made you promise to have your iron-levels checked.<br/>
A standard check-up didn’t reveal anything except fatigue and the signs of a stressful mission. Bruce had wandered over when he saw you and promised to take a look at your blood work. Looking you up and down, he frowned.<br/>
“Maybe it’s the after-effect of having weeks where you needed to be vigilant. Maybe try meditation?” he suggested, and you nodded thoughtfully. You had not noticed before, but there was tension in your neck, as if something were still stressing you. He sent a few files with guided meditations to your pad and offered you valerian drops, but you shook your head. </p><p>It was getting close to noon and you went to the Lounge to see if anybody was making lunch. All of you had a little kitchenette in your quarters, but often there would be spontaneous shared meals.<br/>
You were happy to find Wanda, Sam and Pietro preparing a stir-fry and offered to help. Wanda told you to set the table and you caught her watching you. She was probably waiting for you to fall asleep standing and dropping the cutlery or something.<br/>
The food was excellent, and it was nice having a normal conversation while eating. Though Bucky, Steve and you had tried not to lose sight of your social needs, conversation had usually centered on the mission.<br/>
With a full belly and your eyes nearly dropping shut over the left-over muffins you had as dessert, Wanda sent you to bed. </p><p>Again, sleep proved to be illusive. Your eyes were beginning to feel as if you had poured sand into them and you felt strangely disconnected, as if all of your sensory input had to travel through a veil to reach you. The last time you had felt this way was during training when you had tried to stay awake for 60 hours. You went to fetch your pad and tried one of the sound files Bruce had send you. Instead of relaxing you, the first had you thinking about the narrator’s pronunciation. The second had your mind wandering but didn’t calm you down. Finally, after three hours of trial and error, there was one without narration, but sounds of waves that lulled you into sleep.<br/>
It was dark outside when you woke up. You still felt dreadful, but your head was a bit clearer. You knew you had drifted in and out of consciousness and your dreams had been confused and troubled. Your dream-self had kept reaching out for something, trying to get warm and safe, searching something. A place? You huddled under your blankets. This didn’t feel right. </p><p>Still tired, you dragged yourself up and decided to try an old recipe: hot milk with honey. It was more of a comfort drink than a real remedy, but you were getting desperate.<br/>
The Lounge was dimly lit, and you heard voices drifting over. Grumpy and not feeling like company, you went directly to the kitchen and started preparing. While you were waiting for the milk to warm on the stove – according to the recipe it mustn’t be micro-waved – you stared into the middle distance. Why was it so hard to fall asleep? You didn’t have so many problems on the mission. Sure, the floor had been hard, and it had been cold, but the three of you had joined your sleeping bags and shared warmth.<br/>
A voice from the doorway shook you from your reverie. It was Steve.<br/>
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, and you nodded miserably.<br/>
“We’re having trouble, too. Bucky suggested watching a boring movie, but it won’t help, not really.”<br/>
He looked at the milk in the pot on the stove, which was just starting to steam.<br/>
“Why don’t you join him, and I’ll fix honeyed mild for all three of us?”<br/>
There wasn’t a reason handy that would sound convincing and a soft sofa sounded nice, so you nodded and padded to the Lounge.<br/>
Bucky’s eyes were heavy lidded, but he smiled when he saw you. He scooted up on the couch, motioning you to join him. When you perched on the edge of the couch next to him, he muttered something and pulled you closer. You felt yourself relax against his chest and drew your legs up. You had almost dozed off when Steve came in with three mugs. You shifted and he sat down beside you, patting his knees to offer you a place for your feet in his lap.<br/>
You felt Bucky play with your hair and Steve rubbing slow circles over your ankles and you finally knew what you had been missing.<br/>
“You spoiled me,” you murmured sleepily. “Can’t fall asleep without you.” The warmth of their bodies and their scent, the sound of their breath, it made you feel safe, protected, belonging.<br/>
Just before sleep claimed you, you heard Bucky softly say: “You’ll never have to again.”</p>
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